Guts & Glory
by realfriends13
Summary: A collection of one-shots of my original clique, the Punks. For more information on this fanmade clique, visit Bully Fanon Wiki and search 'Punks (SodaCat)'.
1. Character Introductions

The Punks are an original clique that I created. Here are some quick summaries on the boys (and girl) along with some other characters important to their lives.

* * *

 **Jason "Ace" Griffith** \- Jason is the leader of the Punks. He's somewhat of a mean guy who enjoys concert-going, fighting, and flirting. He rules his clique fiercely and refers to them as his 'kids', and feels its his responsibility to keep them safe. He's an orphan as a result of war, and has a home with his older brother, Gavin, in New Coventry that was left to them by their late parents. Jason and the punks use this house as their off-campus hangout.

 **Garrett Warren** \- Jason's best friend and second in command. Garrett is best characterized by his silent, brooding nature, and his intelligence. He is cold and unsympathetic to everyone, except for his fellow cliquemates, especially Danny Nix who is his adopted younger brother, and Danny's parents. He was taken in by Danny's parents at a young age after he ran away from his orphanage after it was closed down.

 **Danny Nix** \- Danny is seen as everyone in the clique's younger brother. He is of happy and bright nature, and loves food, fun, and concerts. He is very close to his adopted older brother, Garrett, frequently seen following him around all over Bullworth. He comes from a poor, trailer park family, and is the son of a tattoo artist. He plays on the Bullworth Bullhorns football team as wide receiver.

 **Duncan Haynes** \- Duncan has easily had the most difficult childhood of all the punks. He is quick to fight and is generally very violent. Though not diagnosed, Duncan seems to suffer from heavy PTSD and depression. He was born and raised in Carcer City, until his parents were murdered when he was only 10. From then on he lived as a drug mule for a gang, and after the entire gang was murdered by James Earl Cash, he was found by a policeman and taken to Bullworth Academy at the age of 13. He clashes often with Jason.

 **Gage Walker** \- A foster kid, Gage is best described as a troublemaking ball of energy. He has difficulty relating and socializing with others unless he is with his twin brother, Tripp. He has a deep love for arson and vandalism in general, and has his hair cut into a mohawk that he has dyed crimson, resulting in him being nicknamed 'Bacon' around the academy (as his hair apparently resembles a bacon strip).

 **Tripp Walker** \- Tripp, like his twin brother, is quite fond of troublemaking, though he tends to be more of the brains of the operation. He is among the smarter students at Bullworth Academy, and unlike his brother, is much better at socializing and relating to others. People tend to view Tripp as the more attractive of the twins, seeing as he kept his natural sandy blonde hair color and does not cover his navy blue eyes with colored contacts, unlike his twin. He is bisexual.

 **Jackelin "Jack" Pearce** \- Jackelin is not nearly as hostile and mean as her cliquemates, and is instead more of a class-clown personality. She has a bad habit of being all talk, and when challenged to a fight will accept as if she believes she can really beat up anyone. She gets along well with students at the academy who are easygoing, and has a strong desire to lead her life as easygoing and stress-free as possible. She has somewhat of a romantic relationship with Duncan Haynes, though she is beginning to have feelings for West James as well.

 **West James** \- West is a generally pleasant, albeit introverted type of kid. Unlike his earlier years, he is a pacifist. West has a deep love for art, in all forms. He cares deeply for his younger brother, Callum, who lives in Los Santos. Rumors around the school claim that West is gay, and he is bullied as a result of this. Other rumors around the school claim that West's pacifist attitude is merely a front and that he is near his "breaking point".

* * *

Other characters:

 **Peter "Pete" Dawson** \- The social worker in charge of placing Tripp  & Gage in a suitable home. He is young, and was given the Walker twins to break him in. He cares deeply for the twins and would take them in himself, but he is not financially able to.

 **Callum James** \- West's little brother, who West last saw when Callum was merely 6 years old. Though not much is known about Callum, it is known he and West were very close.

 **Gavin Griffith** \- Jason's older brother who joined the army after their parents died in order to support himself and his brother. Jason and Gavin are very close, and Jason often skips school when Gavin visits in order to spend entire days with him.


	2. Mutual Understanding

A one-shot covering Punk leader, Jason Griffith's, "mutual understanding" with greaser leader Johnny Vincent.

* * *

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?"

Johnny stiffens at the sound of a rough, beaten voice; he's unwelcome here and he knows it. New Coventry may be _greaser_ turf and everyone else at the school may respect that, except the punks. And according to them, he's on their turf right now.

The voice has come from Duncan Haynes, who is sitting on the hood of a beaten, old car. The windshield is shattered and the hood is stained with what appears to be blood, but Duncan pays no mind to this as he leans forward and sets his forearms on his elbows. He watches Johnny with fierce, hungry dark brown eyes, waiting for the grease monkey to make a wrong move.

"Shut up, Duncan," their leader commands. Ace Griffith is leaning up against one of the dirty brick walls in the alley, muscular, inked arms crossed over his chest. Irritated, Duncan leans back and crosses his arms, still glaring at Johnny.

Johnny's gaze moves over to Ace, who is too watching Johnny intently, though his gaze is more relaxed. Johnny isn't scared of Ace or any of the other washed out rejects in his group, but right now he's outnumbered, and even the chick with the pink streaks in her hair looks a little bit intimidating.

"Vincent, right?" Ace asks casually, sounding more bored than anything else. He eyes Johnny up and down for a moment, sizing him up. He doesn't look like a weakling, not like that twerp Derby or pretty boy Thompson, but he's still most likely no match for Ace. He's not concerned.

Hesitant, Johnny nods. "Yeah. These your boys, Griffith?" he counters, eyes traveling over the distinct faces of the kids in front of him. The tall kid with the purple hair, the crazy, weird twins, the little one with the blue hair. The art-crazed kid with the weird hair, the creepy looking one sitting on the car, and the pink-haired girl.

They looked like a load of clowns.

Ace surveys them, nodding slowly. "Yeah. Where's your gang?"

Johnny looks back at Ace's impossible to read eyes, unsure. Something about Ace's tone is threatening him, and Johnny doesn't like it. "They're around. Listening just in case I need their opinions on somethin'."

Or backup.

Chuckling, Ace straigtens and begins making his way over to Johnny. By reflex, Johnny pulls his hands out of his leather jacket pockets, just in case this kid wants to fight. Instead, Ace throws his hands up as if he were being held at gunpoint by a police officer.

"I'm not gonna fight you man," he announces, still laughing, "put your fists away. Let's just talk."

Johnny didn't get to be leader of the gang by being stupid, so instead he simply uncurls his fists and looks straight at Ace. "We're not talking. You're leaving, this is greaser turf and you know it."

Ace stops, staring at Johnny just a little bit surprised. He'd admire Johnny's courage, sure, if it wasn't so fucking irritating right about now. What did he expect Ace do, just wrap things up and tell his boys they had to head out because Johnny _fucking_ Vincent demanded it? Please.

"Your girlfriend. Lola Lombardi, yeah?"

Johnny's attention is immediately gained at the mention of Lola's name. He stares harshly at Ace, as if waiting for his own brown eyes to bore a hole in Ace's hazel ones. Ace has no business talking about Lola. "Yeah, she's my girl."

Ace nods, the way a father would upon hearing a confession they were already aware about from their child. "That's nice. Girls, they're real nice. Say, Jack, you're a girl, yeah?"

He turns, looking over at the girl with pink streaks. Jackelin's gaze snaps up, and she grins at Ace, nodding. "Last time I checked."

"And as a girl, you like tough guys, yeah? Smart guys. Guys who get you, yeah?"

Jack nods, still grinning at Ace. She knows what he's doing, and she admires his tactic, the same way all the punks admire everything about Jason Griffith. "That's right, Ace."

Ace turns back to face Johnny, already knowing that he's gained the kid's full attention by this point. "Y'know, Vincent," he says bluntly, inspecting the tattoos on his left wrist, "I hear you're a virgin."

This earns a round of laughter from the boys—and girl—behind Jason, and Johnny immediately reddens at this. He doesn't answer Ace, instead just stares at him, uneasy. He should've brought backup, he knows it, but at this moment he's pretty grateful that the boys aren't around to hear this.

"And uh, as Jack so graciously tells us, ladies aren't really into dudes who don't get them… dudes who don't know what they're doing."

He smiles at Johnny as if he were no more than a stupid child. "And between you and me, _I_ definitely know what I'm doing."

That _bastard_.

"So let's just consider for a moment," Ace continues, his voice booming in the silent alley, "that one day I come across your pretty little girl and realize that hey—I get her. Maybe I'll just go right ahead and let her know that there's some guys around here that get what a girl like her is about, y'know?"

"What are you sayin'?" Johnny demands, his voice cold. He's panicking—he doesn't know how he could gain the upperhand in this particular exchange—but he'd never show that to an enemy. And right now, Ace Griffith falls pretty hard under the category of 'enemies'.

Ace just shrugs, as if the two were having a friendly conversation rather than a tense faceoff. "It's pretty easy to figure out, don't you think? You and your guys, you're all pretty tough, I think you could keep me in line if you had an eye on me, right? But how are you gonna do that if I'm say, in Bullworth Town or the Vale?"

Johnny bites at the inside of his cheek. He's defeated, he knows it, Ace knows it, and the punks behind Ace know it, too. "I guess Coventry is pretty big," he mumbles finally.

Jason smiles at him, nodding a little bit. "See man, I knew we could share. Why don't you head back home and tell your boys the news, I'm sure they'll be real happy to know they got new neighbors. I mean, unless you forgot the way, in which case Garrett can walk you?"

The kid with the purple hair approaches Johnny, and even from a couple feet away Johnny can tell that he towers over him. He shakes his head quickly, avoiding the artificially-tinted violet eyes.

"I know the way," he snaps, annoyed, as he turns and begins cursing Ace Griffith under his breath.

"Alright, man," Ace agrees, his voice light. "And uh, you be sure to tell your girl that I said hi."


	3. Sleeping Bag

This takes place in the same AU in which my other story, Millstone, takes place in. It's a separate AU to all my other Bully works.

Also please note that the 'Duncan' in this story is not the member of the Townies, but an original character.

* * *

His head is pounding as he tries to stand up, just having fallen down the elevator shaft, when Duncan sees something in a large black felt bag, immobile.

He looks up and sees the dim light coming in from the hallway, and then looks forward, just barely able to make out somebody in a black hooded sweatshirt standing in front of him and the bag on the ground.

He has no idea what he has fallen into, but within seconds there is something punching and hitting at his entire upper body. It is with this realization that the present comes crashing onto Duncan, and he is shoved forward from the impact, scarred knuckles making contact with the kid in the sweatshirt's head. He can't see the guy's face—he's wearing a black mask—but he can hear the grunts of pain, and he can sure as hell feel the guy's fists punching into his stomach in retaliation.

Within seconds Duncan is on the floor, having had his feet knocked out from under him. He gazes up, heart hammering in his chest at his assailant, positive that within seconds he will have red streaks mixed into the green ones already dyed into his hair. He's never been sure of what happens after death, but at this moment Duncan believes that there is a pretty good bet he is about to find out.

To his surprise, however, the black mask was simply pulled up just enough so that the bastard could snicker and then spit on Duncan's face before running off into the shadows.

His first instinct was to get back up and chase after the bastard, but something about that bag held Duncan back. He stood, wiping the spit off his face furiously, before slowly making his way over to the bag. He places one scarred, veiny hand on it—there is something inside. Cautiously, he unzips the zipper around the edges of the bag, and finds himself face to face with some guy.

Brown eyes widen the second that Duncan realizes that that isn't just some guy on the ground, by God, that's Ace Griffith, and last Duncan remembers, Ace didn't have any red streaks in his hair. His hand moves to Ace's bare forearm, surprised to feel it cold. Cautiously, Duncan rolls Ace over onto his back, and stares into his empty, pale face.

Ace could've been sleeping, had it not been for the huge red wound on the left side of his head. A small puddle of blood had already formed around it, but beside that, there was no apparent indication that Ace be doing anything other than enjoying a midday nap.

Duncan can feel the tears slide down his face, but he's not really sure what's happening just yet. The mere idea that Ace be gone is a ridiculous one; sure they'd had their fair share of spats, but Duncan was far from wishing Ace gone or… dead. Yet here he was, his high and mighty leader laying on the dirty ground before him, his head bashed in.

There is another object on the ground not too far from Ace, Duncan realizes, and upon inspection he can immediately tell that it is some sort of circular weight wrapped in clear plastic wrap and fashioned into a swinging object. Stains of crimson confirm that it is the murder weapon, but Duncan doesn't want to think about any of those terms right now.

His only response to the situation is to pick up Ace with the bag, his sleeping bag, and carry him to the nearest exit. He can't really think of much besides that bastard's laugh before he ran off as he kicks open the boiler room door to the hallway.

"I said clear the way, there may be someone else in—by God!"

Duncan does not flinch upon hearing the voice of his headmaster, he simply stares up into the old man's eyes, surrounded by creases of years of dealing with petulant troublemakers such as Duncan Haynes or Ace Griffith. There is something about the boy's eyes, however, that makes Dr. Crabblesnitch stop. There is something too empty about his eyes for a scolding.

"What's that you got there, son?" Crabblesnitch inquires, stepping forward slowly. Duncan turns to the right almost protectively, wrapping his arm around Ace. He can't let anyone touch Ace right now, they might wake him up.

But Duncan knows Ace isn't sleeping.

"He's dead," he chokes out, his grip tightening on Ace's body through the bag. "He's dead and he's bleeding…!"

"Give him here," one of the prefects demands, stepping forward to relieve the kid of the body. Seth is tired and this whole situation is scaring him something nasty, but he's pretty sure that one of the students shouldn't be the one to lug around a body.

"Don't touch him!" Duncan roars, stepping back and almost falling back into the boiler room. Seth sneaks a look at Crabblesnitch, who in turn gives him a slight shake of the head. Defeated, he steps back.

Crabblesnitch takes a cautious step towards Duncan, who by now is looking 'round like a deer trapped in the headlights of an 18-wheeler truck. "We have to get him outside, son," he explains quietly, using the same voice he'd use while speaking to one of the middle school children, "there's ambulances to help him."

Duncan nods slowly, but by the way he's standing, Crabblesnitch can tell that the boy intends on carrying the body out himself. It must have been one of his friends, he realizes, and a quick glance at the deceased face once Duncan starts walking confirms it. Ace Griffith was always a bit of a wild boy, it was no surprise that his end would be something as wild as he was in life.

The sun is shining outside, and Duncan knows it's probably nice and warm, but all he can feel right now is the cold and unforgiving weight of Ace on his shoulder. Ace, who was their leader, who liked to ride of the surfaces of concert crowds and flirt girls silly, now confined into a black bag.

Hysterical at this point, Duncan lays Ace down and begins ripping the bag off him, freeing Ace from his prison. Here he lays, in front of the school, when Duncan looks up and realizes a crowd is waiting outside. Cops stand in front of a collection of students and faculty, trying to stop them from breaking through the DO NOT CROSS police tape that has been placed in front of the stairs. The crowd goes silent the moment Ace is unveiled, and even the policemen turn to see what is amiss.

It is with remorse, Duncan realizes, that Ace has surfed to the front of a crowd for the last time.


	4. Polar

Once again, the "Duncan" in this is not the Duncan who is a member of the Townies, but an original character. Additionally, Carcer City is from the Rockstar Games game Manhunt.

* * *

"I just don't get why you gotta pull this out on me every single time I—s"

"Shut up!"

Jack stopped at the sound of Duncan's sudden outburst, jumping out of the way as he grabbed a brick and threw it randomly against the brick wall behind her. It hit the wall with a loud crack, breaking off a small portion of both it and the brick. Jack's blue eyes trailed helplessly up to Duncan. She'd been standing there three seconds ago.

Was he insane?

"Don't you get it?!" Duncan roared, his chest heaving with heavy, weighted breaths. "You can't love me! I can't love anyone! I'm too fucked up, I'm dangerous!" He stared at her, as if trying to bury his words into her by a mere glare. If he could just make her understand… She couldn't love him; he was too fucked up for her, for anyone.

Jack resisted the overwhelming urge to make a joke, partly because Duncan was really pissing her off right now, and partly because the small voice at the back of her head that she usually ignored was desperately screaming that now was not the time nor the place for comedies, no matter how clever they may be.

"What I don't get is why we have to go through this all the fucking time, Duncan," Jack sneered, crossing her thin arms over her chest. He was such a fucking drama queen all the time.

He stared at her as if she were stupid. If only she'd seen the things Duncan had seen in Carcer City, if only she'd lived through what he lived through… maybe then, he'd be ever so slightly inclined to trust her even a little bit.

Duncan shook his head, his decision made. "I'm not doing this, Jack. I'm not."

He gave her one final stare before turning around on his heel and marching right out of the alley. Maybe he'd head to the tenements or the gas station to pick a fight with those greaseball losers, anything but try and reason with her any longer.

Jack let out a sigh and shoved her pockets into her coat, trailing behind Duncan as he left the alley but knowing she'd be going a different direction. There wasn't any use trying with Duncan when he got like this.

"I mean, you just gotta feel these things as you're doing them. It's not about just grabbing a bunch of crayons and smudging the hell out of it, it's about getting something meaningful onto the page."

West grinned slowly up at Jack, not even having to look at the strokes he was laying down onto the pad that currently rest up against his legs. Currently, he was seated on his bed in the boys' dorm, dozens of oil pastels spread out around him. He grinned up at Jack, admiring the mystified expression on her face. He loved talking about art to people.

His right eye was purple and swollen; he'd gotten beat pretty bad last week. West was always getting picked on; he wasn't much of a fighter, and the other guys at the academy had labeled him as being a 'homo' due to his love of art. Yet, he wasn't filled with any rage. If anything, West was one of the sweetest, kindest guys that Jack knew.

Jack nodded slowly, trying to piece West's words together. "I get it, I kinda do the same when I'm designing something… though, I have to look at the paper when I draw…"

West laughed, his eyes crinkling up as he did so. He reached down for a neon pink pastel, switching it out for the electric blue one he'd been holding. "I mean I don't know much about designing, but I guess you're right," he shrugged, glancing down and smiling at his drawing.

"If it's anything like drawing, though, I'm sure you'll be able to do it without even glancing at it until it's done. Just let it speak to you."

Jack nodded slowly, taking West in in his entirety. He was so passionate about art; not just drawing, but art. All forms of it. She could see it in the loving movements of his hands as he held a pastel. The vibrant waves in his finished paintings. Soft notations of joy in his voice whenever he sang an original song.

In a way, West and Duncan were pretty similar. They were both passionate about things, just… different things. West was passionate about his love for art. Duncan was passionate about… the reasons he shouldn't be loved.

She let out a sigh. West and Duncan were as polar as opposites could get.

After a moment, Jack noticed that West's hands had stopped moving along the sheet, his fingers now just gently feathering around the top edge. "Are you finished?" she asked, her blue eyes filled with curiosity. "Can I see?"

West stopped, looking up at her with a bit of a shocked expression before breaking out into a huge grin. Wordlessly, he took the paper in his hands and turned it so that Jack could see it.

Her. Standing, knee deep in the ocean water at the Old Bullworth Vale beach, grinning out at herself as if the drawing were a life-like photograph, which it could've passed for, it was so detailed. Jack studied her drawing self's glowing electric blue eyes, the gentle sweep of her black hair with pink streaks dyed in. West had made her beautiful, unrealistically so.

"You made me look so… pretty…" Jack breathed out slowly, for once unable to come up with any sort of sarcastic or witty comment. She glanced up at West, noticing how his green eyes had softened, the left corner of his mouth pulled up into an easy half-grin.

"I just draw what I see," he replied quietly. "What I feel."

Jack opened her mouth, searching for words to say to West. "West," she began slowly, her mind and voice on autopilot, "I—"

"Jack?"

West and Jack's attention was yanked to the door as it slammed open, revealing a tired, exhausted-looking Duncan. His eyes were trained on Jack before flickering over to West, his eyes igniting with what could only be described as a furious, hate-filled flame.

"What are you doing here." He demanded, making his way over to her and clutching her arm tightly. He dragged her out of the dorm and into the hallway before slamming the door to his dorm shut.

"I'm spending time with West, Duncan," Jack sighed, looking anywhere but Duncan's face. She'd expected something like this, but she hadn't expected it today. Duncan wasn't supposed to be back at the dorm yet, he usually stayed out on the streets during the weekends.

Duncan shook his head, his brown eyes never leaving Jack's blue ones. "You just think it's okay to do this to me, Jack? Is that it?"

"Duncan, I'm not trying to do anything to you. You don't own me, and you said yourself I was wasting my time with you."

Alright, maybe she shouldn't have said that.

She saw the blow the moment it hit him. Duncan furrowed his eyebrows as if he were furious, but the deep frown that immediately etched itself into his face gave him away. "So I'm just a waste of time to you too now?" he hissed before slamming his palm onto the wall beside Jack's head. He held it for a moment there, and then head straight for the door to the dorm.

Jack remained like that for a moment, her back up against the wall as if Duncan were still cornering her. She let out a shaky breath before returning into the dorm, where West still sat on his bed, still as a statue.

"Sorry about that," she mumbled, making her way back over to the desk chair where she'd been sitting, when she stopped. She couldn't see the picture of her that West had drawn anywhere.

West nodded slowly, not looking at her. "Jack, I think you should go, uh, it's pretty late."

It was barely three in the afternoon, but Jack understood immediately. West knew of the circumstance at hand. Given to choose between Jack and Duncan, West would refuse to choose.

Or maybe this was him choosing Duncan.

Jack nodded, biting her lip. "Yeah. Yeah, it is," she agreed, making her way out the door silently and gently shutting it behind her.


	5. Last Straw

A one-shot about two of my punk OCs, Tripp & Gage Walker. It revolves around their final foster home before being placed in Bullworth Academy.

 **Quick Character Guide:**

David & Samantha Miller \- The boys' last foster parents. They have no biological children, and are both in their early thirties. Typical suburban family, they believe in family camping trips, family game nights, and greeting new neighbors into the neighborhood. And driving sedans. And vans.

Peter (Pete) Dawson \- Social worker in charge of Tripp & Gage. He's around 27 years old, pretty much the youngest social worker at the agency, and assigned the boys kinda to "prove himself". Passed college with soaring colors, top of his class, etc. Pretty whole-hearted guy. Cares about the boys, but he can't take them in b/c of his economic standing.

* * *

"That's it, we're done, we don't want these brats any more."

Tripp and Gage's eyesights flicked boredly onto the face of David, the man they'd only just gotten to know as their foster dad four months ago, who was holding his shaking wife Samantha in his arms. They looked at each other, communicating silently, both agreeing that David was being an ass and Samantha was being a wuss.

"Now, Mr. Miller, surely we can come to some sort of agreement about what happened..." Peter, the social worker who was in charge of Tripp and Gage mumbled quietly.

"An agreement?!" David screamed out, startling his wife, "You want us to come to an agreement?! They nearly blew up the goddamn car trying to set it on fire!"

"We just wanted to see if it'd work," Tripp groaned, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Who the fuck even cares? It's a fucking Emperor. You'd have better luck riding a goddamn scooter." Gage added.

David smacked his hands down on said Emperor beside him in the driveway, the metal long since cooled since the firefighters put it out almost three hours ago. "You see?! This is the kind of thing I mean! They have no consideration for property, let alone the goddamn law, and they don't even care! These two don't belong in foster care-they belong in prison!"

"We came pretty damn close to prison living in this shithole..." Tripp muttered under his breath, earning a sharp elbow to the shoulder from Peter. Gage immediately turned to glare at Peter for daring to hurt his brother, but the social worker paid no mind.

"The agency will fully reimburse you for the damage inflicted to your car, Mr. Miller, just as it has for the basement, the laundry room, and the backyard gazebo..."

"You're damn right it will!" David exclaimed, and to the twins it seemed as if he were verging on hysterics. "This is the last straw, Mr. Dawson. I thought we could round these boys up after those other incidents, Samantha thought they needed love and care, but we both agree there's no fixing these brats. The only reason I'm not pressing charges is because I already feel bad enough that you're in charge of these monsters. So just take them with you, and mail us the paperwork."

With that, the Millers turned and entered their bright suburban home, slamming the door shut behind them.

Tripp and Gage shoved their hands into the pockets of their respective jeans, secretly eager to be out of the Miller's clutches. They were pretty well off, financially, but David and Samantha insisted on doing stuff like sitting down all together to eat dinner, maintaining a curfew for the boys, and keeping in touch with the boys' school to moderate their grades.

"Well, guess it's time for another family, huh, Peter?" Tripp announced lightly, sneaking a quick grin to his twin.

"Maybe you should find one that actually gives a fuck about hockey," Gage suggested, yawning.

Peter eyed the boys, their faces stained with ashes, the hair on their heads ruffled and messed up. "No. It's not time for another family. You two knew what was coming if you messed this one up."

The boys were silent for a moment, instead looking at each other, trying to find words.

"You were serious about that?" Tripp croaked out.

Peter sighed, turning and starting to lead the boys into his company-loaned Bullet. "Yes, I was serious, guys. No more fun and games. The agency already made the decision, there's no more foster families that'll take you. You guys are going to boarding school, and I can't guarantee you won't get split up. With your history, it's unlikely any school will want both of you at the same time."

"What if no school wants either of us?" Gage whispered, unconsciously seizing his twin's wrist as they climbed into the back seat of Peter's car and shut the door behind them.

Slipping the key into the ignition, Peter looked at the boys' worried faces through the rearview mirror, and for a moment wished that he himself were able to house the boys. "Then it's a group home, guys. And I can guarantee you'll be split then. So you're gonna have to try really hard to stay out of trouble."

Nodding, the boys looked out through the window beside Tripp, giving one final look to the Miller's lame suburban house.


	6. Welcome to the Family

This one focuses more on how the Punks came to form.

* * *

"We hang out by the gate during lunch. If it's a yes, I'll see you there tomorrow."

Simple words in a phrase strung together, repeated over and over until a family had formed. Nobody knew Jason Griffith's motivation behind forming his family. Some speculated it was for power. Others for the mere pleasure of knowing he was in charge of something. Irrelevant. The matter was who he had told these words to.

A huge, purple-haired, tattoo-riddled boy trying to care for the smaller blue haired boy he'd taken up as a surrogate little brother. Daniel Nix was young and stupid to say the least. Reckless and clumsy in the worst ways possible. Garrett Warren overgrown and brooding. Silent.

...

 _"I know you're smarter than this. And right now your report card looks like a white kid trying to rap. D-D-D-D-D. Jesus. I can help you."_

 _"How do I know?" Garrett had challenged, distrusting yet slightly drawn to this weird, entitled, pierced kid just a few inches shorter. He glanced over Jason's shoulder, watching as Danny shifted uncomfortably under the weight of the prefect's hand on his shoulder._

 _Jason chuckled. "Let's just say Crabblesnitch owes me one. I know you're not gonna say yes unless the kid's allowed to come. So he is. And I can keep him, and you, out of trouble. I'll help you keep an eye on him. Then you can get your grades up. We can help each other."_

 _Garrett furrowed his eyebrows at this, but Jason's expression didn't change. There was something about those eyes. Promising. Honest. Earnest. Determined._

 _Jason sighed after a moment, taking Garrett's silence as a 'no'. He knew recruiting Garrett would be difficult, he'd have to try again later._

 _"I like hanging out by the gates during lunch. If it's a yes, I'll see you there—both of you."_

...

Not long after that came the psychotic new kid from Carcer City. Violent and prone to cursing, Duncan Haynes made no one's life easy, not even his own. If anything he further complicated things for anyone who came into his never ending warpath; the opposite of the Midas touch. It seemed as if anything golden he touched crumpled and wasted away, just as he himself was.

And yet, Jason Griffith went ahead and welcomed Duncan Haynes in.

...

 _"You don't want to do this to yourself,"_

 _Duncan's head snapped up at the faint echo of a voice above him. He sat in the dirty water of the hole, leaned against one of the graffiti filled walls holding a pocket knife in one hand as he sliced at the other relentlessly, not even feeling it._

 _"Who the fuck is that?" He screamed out, squeezing the fist of his bleeding arm._

 _He tensed as a shadow approached before revealing that blonde kid with the green streaks, Griffith. Duncan rolled his eyes the moment he saw him. Other kids thought Griffith was strong and interesting, Duncan knew he was just another poser. He didn't give a fuck about Griffith or his stupid agendas._

 _"Leave me the fuck alone," Duncan growled, annoyed at even having to tell Griffith to leave._

 _"Shut the fuck up, and listen to me," Jason challenged, arms crossing. Duncan opened his mouth to shoot back yet another obscenity-filled reply, but something about Griffith's voice held him back. It held too much authority._

 _"You're pissed as hell about something, anyone with even a quarter of a brain can see that. Yet here you are, taking it out on yourself. What the fuck is that gonna prove? That you can make yourself weaker? It's pathetic. And yeah, I know that's not what you're supposed to say to suicidal kids, but we both know you're not suicidal. Get the fuck over yourself. Get up."_

 _Duncan stood, bewildered and ready to hit this kid as Jason jumped into the hole and stomped his way over to him. Within a second, he'd snatched the pocket knife out of Duncan's hand and was glaring at him the way an angry parent would glare at a petulant child._

 _"I'm doing this because I give a fuck, man."_

 _"You don't know me," Duncan growled, making a grab for his knife but missing narrowly as Jason pulled it out of his reach._

 _"I've been watching you. I know you've been through some shit man, and I don't stand just to let people go through shit alone. Look, we eat lunch by the gates. If it's a yes, I'll see you there tomorrow."_

...

Of course then came West James, the bullied pacifist who looked like he belonged in prison, despite being the gentlest kid in the entire goddamn school. Cowardly, weak, and pathetic, Bullworth Academy easily chewed up and spat out West within his first week of school.

When West was seen walking with Griffith and his crew, the school nearly fell on its ass. How the hell was West James walking around with some of the toughest guys at the Academy when a mere week ago he was lying in the parking lot, covered in blood and dirt?

...

 _"West?"_

 _"Hmm?"_

 _West could barely open his left eye, he was pretty sure it was swollen and black after one of the jock kids had shoved his fist in it. Either that, or maybe his cheekbone had collapsed. Sure felt like it. Then again, he couldn't really tell what anything was with all the drying blood on him. Man, he'd just gotten the bloodstains out of his flannel this morning…_

 _"You know who I am?"_

 _West took a moment to think, trying to place the familiar voice. "I sure hope you're not someone coming here to hit me and call me a faggot 'cause you're kinda late to the party…"_

 _Jason sighed, placing an arm underneath West's left armpit and standing him up, allowing West to use him as a crutch as he began leading him to the Boys' Dorm. "I'm not. It's Jason Griffith."_

 _West let out a sigh, prepared to be ambushed by Jason and his friends. "Please call it off, I swear I'm not gay, I just wanna go to bed. Those jock kids did a number on me, you can beat me up tomorrow."_

 _Jason stopped walking, glancing at West who was just starting to be able to open his left eye. It was strange seeing the shining green contrasting against the darkening purple surrounding his eye._

 _"Why do you let them do this to you?" Jason asked before he could stop himself, starting to lead West again._

 _West shrugged, wincing as a sharp pain went through his shoulder. "I don't want to fight them. How do I know what they're going through?"_

 _"Who cares what they're going through?" Jason shot back, narrowly avoiding having West hit a streetlight, "They beat the shit out of you because they think you're gay."_

 _"I can take it." West countered, shrugging. In reality, he feared what he'd do if he were to fight back the other students. They may not know his strength, but he sure did. If he fought them back, he'd put them in the hospital. He wouldn't be able to live with himself knowing he'd put someone in the hospital, especially intentionally._

 _Jason shook his head, a surge of anger running through him. "Are you even gay, man?"_

 _Laughing a little, West shook his head. "No. It's funny. There's actually this girl but… I don't think it'll go anywhere."_

 _"So why do you let them beat you just 'cause they think something that isn't even true?"_

 _Stopping, West took a long, serious look at Jason with his good eye. "If it stops them from putting someone else through what they put me through, I'll take it."_

 _Jason stared at him for a beat longer. "That's fair, man. You know… we hang out at the gates during lunch. If you wanna come by, well… I'll see you tomorrow."_

...

Not long after the gay kid came the weird emo chick, the Avril Lavigne impersonator whose parents were too drunk to even spell her name right. Found at the hands of none other than Burton and Queen Bee Mandy Wiles, placed in punishment by Crabblesnitch who'd decided she needed an activity to keep her busy and out of trouble.

...

 _"Oh my god, Pearce, that's not even close to a scorpion. Don't you know how to do anything?"_

 _Jackelin groaned as she let go of her leg and allowed it to go limp, shifting uncomfortably in the too-loose cheerleading uniform. The top was way too large, and the skirt was as if someone had placed a hula hoop around a stick of celery. All the while, while she was lamely trying to do all the weird super advanced cheer moves Mandy demanded she do, Burton was calling out that she needed to hike her skirt up higher._

 _"Ugh, I give up. Everybody, just go get water. Nobody touch Pearce, I don't want her shitty cheer skills to rub off on you guys. You're terrible enough as it is."_

 _Jackelin sighed as the other girls shot her dirty looks, as if it were her fault that Mandy was acting extra vicious. She made her way over to the benches and shot down, grateful for the two dimwitted football players who'd decided to start annoying Burton._

 _"Cheer, huh? Never pegged that as your style but, guess you're full of surprises."_

 _Jackelin jumped a little at the sound of a male's voice behind her. She turned, studying the muscular, tattoo-covered boy leaning against the fence behind her, his grassy green eyes trained on her. His tiny, smug, overconfident smirk let her know what he was after fast enough._

 _"Not in the mood, loser," she groaned, pulling on her skirt nervously. She'd heard about this kid—never caught the name—and he definitely wasn't someone to try and mess with._

 _Instead he laughed, loosening his arms and approaching her. Jackelin put her guard up in an instant, fighting the odd sensation of tranquility that overcame her the moment she saw his eyes. That's was how these guys worked; they lure you in and then they go in for the attack._

 _"Relax, Jesus," he said, a bit surprised, "damn, I haven't seen anyone this freaked out since I met Danny."_

 _Her interest peaked at that. She knew Danny Nix. Little kid, blue hair, a couple of tattoos; reminded her a little bit of a puppy._

 _"I didn't come here to try and get you to fuck me," Jason explained after a moment, taking a seat beside Jackelin._

 _She crossed her legs and her arms, conjuring up her toughest attitude. "What'd you come here to do, then?"_

 _He looked up at her, studying her, as if he could see every secret she was trying to hide. Discomforted by this, Jackelin looked away._

 _"I've seen the way Crabblesnitch treats you. I don't like it, and I know how you are with Danny, and I like that. I don't know. I don't like it when good people are treated like shit. Your name's Jackelin, right?"_

 _"I go by Jack, sometimes…" she admitted, uncrossing her arms and looking at him shyly. She didn't know what the hell was going on; she was never shy._

 _Jason smiled at her, something that looked more genuine than the smiles the idiot football players gave her. "Jack it is, then. I'm Jason. You know how this school works; it's all that clique bullshit. It's what keeps you safe. You don't have one, I do. That's why I'm here, kid. Crabblesnitch doesn't mess with me, so I can make sure he leaves you alone—same with these cheerleaders."_

 _Jack uncrossed her legs, turning her body a little more to face him. He was just so… weird. Not like a brother, or anything… like God himself. She'd never met someone quite like this._

 _"I'm not gonna force you to do anything," Jason admitted, setting his hands on his knees, "but we eat lunch by the gates. If it's a yes, I'll see you there. Anyway, you can leave this bullshit cheer practice. I already took care of it."_

...

After that came the last of the two, the Walker twins whose recruitment was fairly obvious. Who could ever forget the year that Casey Harris and Jesse Tyler stood in the September cold in their matching Kevin Clone boxers?

...

 _"You guys came,"_

 _Tripp and Gage had indeed shown up to Griffith's lunch invitation, mainly from interest, partly from curiosity about the leader himself. What they found was a group of misfits crowded around a stolen lunch tray covered in French fries from Burger, a boombox playing the sounds of Green Day._

 _"Yeah," Tripp replied, sensing his brother's lack of desire to speak, "we did."_

 _Jason smiled at them, a different smile from the one yesterday. "Cool. I'm glad you guys came. Welcome to the family."_


	7. The Thief

A one-shot focusing on West's past.

* * *

The piercing glare of the sunlight was what awoke West.

The first thing he saw was an airplane, flying in the clear Chumash sky. He ran his hand through his hair, shaking out the dirt and pebbles mixed in with the crimson red. Something within the movement hurt him on his chest, but he shrugged it off. He probably had a lot of bruises right now.

Sitting up, he rested his forearms on his knees, looking around for his knife. Wouldn't be good to lose it, and he wasn't sure what type of evidence was on it anyway. He wasn't even that far from home-Los Santos was just a stone's throw away from Chumash-so it wouldn't take long for the cops to track it to him. Best keep it with him.

It wasn't far, just a couple feet away. He grabbed it, pocketed the cash that had spilled by it, and then took it to wash it off in the ocean. Might as well start on his way home; Callum would be waking up soon and asking about him so they could watch the Saturday morning cartoons together.

He flagged down a cab and mumbled his home address to the driver, ignoring any sort of attempt at conversation he initiated. Instead, West pulled out the wad of money he'd collected the previous night and counted it; it amounted to a mere $133. He swore, the locals started carrying less and less money every day. He couldn't wait till June, when all the tourists showed up; Augusts always sucked.

After a while, the cab pulled up to the Dream Tower building. He thanked the cabbie in the form of an annoyed grunt and tossed a ten at him before climbing out and making his way to the building, punching in the code for the door and brushing past the doorman boredly.

He swiped his card before the door to the apartment, stumbling into it and slamming the door behind him. Checking his watch, he saw it was only 6:40, so Callum wouldn't be up yet. A quick glance into the boy's room confirmed it; he was still tangled in his bedsheets. West smiled a little, glad his little brother had been safe at home in his own bed last night, before closing the door and retreating into his own bedroom.

To say it was a mess was the least. On the ground were dozens of shirts and jeans, paint brushes and spray paint cans, photographs and film strips. Stains of paint he'd knocked over rested all over the floor, and the walls overflowed with drawings and paintings and photographs pinned to them.

He jumped onto his bed, pushing through the red plaid comforter, and propped open the chest at the end of his bed with the key and throwing in the remainder of the cash into it. He slammed it shut and locked it, slumping back onto his bed and grabbing his guitar from beside the bed and starting to play a couple rifts on it.

He was startled by the door opening and his parents walking in. They stood, breathing heavily and glaring at him, his mother's arms on her hips, his father's arms crossed over his chest.

"Can't say I'm glad to see you," West greeted, turning his gaze back to his guitar.

"Get up. Start packing."

West looked at his father, a single eyebrow raised. "Excuse me?"

"You heard your father, West. Start packing, be done before eight."

West's green eyes shifted between his parents. Were they joking right now? "What the hell are you two talking about?" he inquired, irritated. He didn't have time to be kicked out again, he had shit to do, and he wanted to keep Callum company for his morning cartoons.

"We're talking about boarding school, West. Your boarding school. Starting today you are now a member of the Bullworth Academy alumni. Pack your bags, pack away all this... junk you've stowed away, and be in any of the cars by eight.

His father tossed a pamphlet for the place onto West's bed, and then lead his mother out of the room. Shocked, he reached over and took it in his hands, flipping through it. Bullworth Academy. What the hell? He didn't wanna go there. He wanted to stay here robbing the people of Los Santos of their cash.

Knowing they weren't fucking around-were they ever?-West grabbed the nearest duffel bag and opened his chest up once again. He started transferring the cash from the chest into the bag by fistfuls, his mind racing with questions.

When he finished packing, he'd filled two duffel bags and a backpack. He'd managed to store the majority of his clothes and art supplies into them, as well as all the cash in the chest, save for a couple hundred he'd hidden in Callum's bedroom. He'd been hoping to also manage a goodbye to the six-year-old, but he wasn't there.

As he walked by the living room, he saw Callum sitting, eyes trained on the television, face streaked with tears. West's mother sat beside him comforting him, but her voice hardened when West walked by. He knew in an instant that Callum had been instructed to not do so much as even glance at him.

Within ten minutes, West and his father were driving to the airport.


	8. Merry Christmas, Ya Filthy Animal

A real cheesy one-shot focusing on Jason and his brother, Gavin.

* * *

"It's been four years! You're not telling me they didn't give you leave for Christmas again..."

"Who gives a fuck about that?! Come on, we don't need the money that bad-..."

"But I'm your fucking brother!"

Danny and Jack shot away from the door of the classroom that Jason had chosen to go into to make his private phone call to his brother. They stood idly, pretending to have been deep in conversation rather than snooping on the boss, when he threw open the door and stomped out. It was a miracle he hadn't smashed his cell phone, which he now held tightly in his hand.

"I know you kids were listening in, and that's just dandy. I don't give a shit, I'm goin' home."

He began marching away from them, clearly fuming, but both Jack and Danny knew better than to believe the Punk King was really angry. Startled, Jack reached out for him, her small hand wrapping itself around Jason's bicep.

"C'mon, Ace," she said, voice gentle, "you said you'd come with us as soon as you finished your call."

Jason took a moment to consider this, fully aware that he had promised the kids he'd follow them to wherever the hell it was they wanted to go. He knew it was probably a Christmas party or something like that, but without Gavin, what was the point? Jason cared about the kids a lot, and they were pretty much his family, but Gavin was real family. He couldn't patch that up no matter how hard he tried.

"I'm not really feeling like celebrating," he said simply, pulling his arm away and heading to the stairs adjacent to the school's main office. All this stupid Christmas decorating was making him nauseous, and he just wanted to get back to Coventry.

"You promised."

Danny's voice bounced off the halls and struck Jason like a chord. He turned to face the kid, dressed up in a big parka coat that Garrett insisted he wore, his blue hair just barely brushing over those big brown eyes of his. With his nose and cheeks tinted red and that stupid Santa hat he wore, he looked like a pre-schooler.

"...Alright," Jason said finally, unable to refuse any longer. Fucking Danny.

Jack's trailer looked like the entire month of December had just come in and vomited on it. Green and red decorations were hung everywhere, the smell of cookies lingering, and a tree that looked too big for the trailer shoved into a corner.

The coffee table usually covered in Mrs. Pearce's piercing work had been cleared of any sign of body mutilating jewelry, instead replaced by a plate of still warm cookies and dozens of mismatched mugs of steaming hot cocoa.

Jason sat reluctantly on one of the armrests of the old sofa, the pleasant warmth of the over-crowded table suffocating him. Usually he'd be pretty happy about having all the kids together, and Danny's parents and Jack's parents, all just laughing and having a good time, but he missed Gavin.

"Rough day?"

Jason looked up when he heard West. Said redhead was dressed in a real ugly looking Christmas sweater, sipping on his own mug of cocoa. "I used to hate spending Christmas with my folks, too. Always tried and put up a charade that we were real happy, mainly for the old man's reelection. I think the only thing that made it nice was Callum."

Jason shrugged, still bitter. "I don't remember Christmas with my folks. Just with Gavin. Now he ain't here."

West sighed, giving Jason an odd smile before patting his shoulder. "It's alright, boss. I'm sure somethin' will work out. You're a miracle worker. What goes around comes around, y'know?"

Jason watched as West strolled off, making his way over to Tripp and Gage just in time to grab Gage by his hood and keep him from running off as Mr. Pearce did the same to Tripp. Good that they had, Tripp and Gage had been talking a lot lately about what it'd be like to burn down that big Christmas tree in the town square.

"Jason."

The boss looked up annoyed, now Garrett was gonna get on his case about something. He began preparing a long speech about how Garrett had no right to tell him to stop moping, granted that Garrett himself was just one big mope, when Garrett grabbed him by the arm and pulled him up.

"The fuck are you doing, G?"

"Forgot something outside," Garrett replied simply, giving Jason a slight shove. "Can you get it?"

Jason turned to face Garrett, outraged. He was done with this stupid Christmas cheer act. "Just what the fuck do you think I am? I'm not getting anything for you right now man, just leave me alone."

"That's no way to talk to your best friend, little bro."

Garrett gave Jason what looked close to a smug almost smile, before giving a slight shrug and pointing behind Jason where, surely enough, Gavin stood fresh out of his unit, military outfit and all.

The Griffith brothers hugged almost on instant, Jason fighting both the urge to cry and punch Gavin in the jaw. "You're a real asshole man, y'know?" he mumbled, choking on his laugh.

"I know."


	9. Differences

A one shot focusing on another one of Tripp & Gage's foster homes.

* * *

 _"Try not to mess this one up again, guys,"_

These words rang in Tripp and Gage's ears as they followed Angela, their new foster mom, around on a tour of the house. This was their second foster home. They'd been removed from the first one for breaking all the windows when their foster parents were at work, and they were supposed to be at school.

They followed her into a bedroom set up with a bunk bed and stupid, cheesy decorations of footballs and baseball posters. Unimpressed, Tripp picked up one of the football-shaped pillows, scrunching his nose a bit. Had they even bothered reading their file? If they'd paid half attention to it, they would've known the boys didn't give two shits about football or baseball. They liked hockey .

He glanced at Gage, who appeared as if he were trying not to fall asleep. Equally bored, he returned Tripp's gaze, the words flowing between them silently. This is getting boring.

"How about we play a game?" Tripp interrupted suddenly, taking a seat on the bottom bunk and looking up at Angela. "Get your husband and we'll all play together."

Gage grinned, sitting to Tripp's right. "Yeah. It'll be fun," he agreed, giving her a fake smile.

Angela returned their grins, eager to see the boys so happy on the first day. Excited, she called for her husband to enter the room. Her smile remained as Kevin entered.

"Kevin," she said, "the boys wanted to play a game with us."

Gage watched, disgusted as Kevin returned that same fake, shit-eating grin. "Alright boys, let's play," he said, and Gage had to control himself so that he wouldn't roll his eyes.

Tripp nodded, glancing to Gage. "It's really simple. You just have to guess which one's Tripp, and which one's Gage."

Kevin and Angela exchanged an amused smile. "What do we get if we guess right?" Angela asked, the excitement in her voice apparent.

Gage almost laughed at that. Almost. "We'll see," he replied. Nobody guessed right.

Already into the game, Kevin and Angela smiled to each other before studying the twins. Tripp wanted to sigh, but he knew he shouldn't. Maybe, just _maybe_ , they'd guess right.

"Okay, this one is Tripp!"

Gage's eyes crossed as he stared at the finger in his face declaring him his brother.

"No," he said, determined to keep his voice steady, "you're wrong."

Kevin and Angela frowned automatically, and Angela put her hand down. "Oh... well, not to worry boys...! It's only the first day..."

Still, the boys had already decided. "My twin and I are tired," Tripp mumbled, standing and holding the door for them, "we're just gonna sleep."

Three days later the four of them sat in Pete's office.

"The fact remains that they took apart the washing machine and set a fire in the basement the first time we left them alone!"

Tripp slumped down in his seat, rolling his eyes and yawning. He watched his foster dad—soon to be ex-foster dad, probably—boredly.

"We would've put it back together if you'd given us the time," Gage rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. So they took apart an appliance. Big deal. Didn't mean they had to get dragged out to Pete's office rather than just put it the _fuck_ back together.' _It wouldn't even be hard._

Pete shot the boys a look, desperately pleading with his eyes for them to just shut up. They returned the glare to him.

"We don't want to give up on them, but when we talked to them they just point blank said they'd do it again!"

Gage shot Kevin a disgusted look. "You think you're fit to take care of us? You can barely tell the difference between us."

Pete froze when he heard that. He'd heard that same line with the first family.


	10. Of Deer & Schoolnights

Tripp & Gage have a misadventure in the boy's dorm at 3AM.

* * *

"Watch it, Tripp, you're gonna hit him into the door!"

"You're the one who's not lifting his head enough!"

"I swear you're the older one; those extra minutes you had on this Earth without me really hardened you, dude."

"Can you save the jokes for later? You're gonna wake somebody up!"

"You already did, you two fucking abortions! Shut the fuck up!"

The twins immediately straightened at the comment, glaring down the hall to the dorm it had come from. 116—Ted Thompson. They looked to each other and made a silent agreement to get back at the asshole at a later date. But not right now. Right now they had a much more pressing matter, in the form of a deer.

Said deer—for the moment named 'A.D.'—looked up at the twins with its large, brown eyes before opening its mouth and letting out what could only be described as a distressed groan.

"Oh fuck, c'mon A.D., not that!" Gage moaned, doing his best to carry the animal into his and his brother's dorm room. It was only five more feet, but it felt like a mile.

Tripp was equally as pushed by the deer's call. "You're gonna wake everybody up, and then you'll be out on the street! Come on Gage, hurry the fuck up."

"I'm trying!" Gage argued, finally arriving to the door and kicking it open half-hazardly, before nearly falling in. Quickly, he assisted Tripp in laying down A.D. on the bottom bunk of their bed, before the two slumped down on the floor side by side and let out a long, tired breath. It didn't last long, they had much more pressing manners at the moment.

They stood and inspected A.D., specifically, his leg.

"We have to set it," Tripp muttered, reaching out and—as gently as he could—tried to straighten out A.D.'s leg.

This mere movement resulted in the deer letting out a loud, pained groan, eyeing the twins as if it expected them to give it some sort of slow, painful death. It was too much for the boys, and they instantly felt their throats tighten.

"Don't do that!" Gage insisted, grabbing at Tripp's already withdrawn hand. Terrified, he reached out and stroked A.D. gently on the head, his heart tightening when he saw the animal pull its head away a little in fear before relaxing and accepting Gage's touch.

Wordlessly, Tripp pulled his phone out and texted the only person he could think of that would be able to set and heal a deer.

"hey g, u know how to set broken bones painlessly and quickly or do u have a link to a how to video on the matter preferably less than 5min long" he texted, his eyes trained on A.D.'s.

Less than a minute later, a loud knock came onto the door, surprising both the Walker twins and A.D. Tripp and Gage exchanged a look, unsure of what to do.

"It's Jason and Garrett. I know you two have a deer in there so open the fucking door," Jason's voice boomed through, and Gage scrambled up to open the door and pull the two boys in.

"Not so loud, Christmas!" he scolded, sticking his head out the door and looking down both directions in the hall in case any nosy asshole had overheard. Upon seeing that the coast was clear, he stuck himself back into the dorm and shut the door, locking it dramatically. "We don't want A.D. to get taken away!"

Jason and Garrett glanced at each other, an unimpressed look passing over the both of them. "'A.D.'?" Garrett asked, his voice in his usual monotone. He didn't look interested at all, but the twins knew he cared. He wouldn't have asked otherwise.

"It stands for Asshole Deer," Gage explained, "Asshole for the bitch that hit him and Deer because he is a deer."

Jason let out a loud, slightly annoyed sigh. "Thanks Bacon, I don't think either of us could've figured out that last part out."

"You're welcome," Gage answered, his eyes full of concern and trained on the deer.

Garrett, in the meantime, kneeled down and eyed the deer's leg. It was definitely broken, but by the looks of it it wasn't too bad. He let out a breath and stood, his eyes flicking between the twins, the deer, and Jason. "Plaster, stockinette," he said simply.

"Nurse has some of that shit," Tripp replied, nodding to Garrett. "She used some on Rock when he broke his arm after he fell asleep in that tree."

Garrett nodded to Tripp and began heading for the door, glancing back at Jason and giving him a simple nod. Jason nodded back, looking to Gage. "We'll stay here. You can bond with your fucking tick farm or whatever."

"He's not a tick farm!" Gage defended immediately, but was silenced by Jason holding his hand up.

"I'm not in the mood for an argument, Gage. It's 3 A.M. and a little late for this type of bullshit, even for you two."

Gage nodded and glanced at Tripp, who offered a shrug before leading Garrett out the door, presumably to go sneak into the nurse's office and steal the necessary supply for a cast.

Once the door shut behind them, Gage sat back down next to the bottom bunk and began petting A.D. gently once again.

"How do you even know if that thing's a dude?" Jason muttered, taking a seat on the desk chair and rubbing his sleep-filled eyes. The tattoos on his arm shone oddly in the moonlight coming in from the grimy window behind him.

Gage looked up, a crooked grin on his face. "He's got a—"

"Forget I asked, kid."

They were interrupted by the door open, and Gage was seconds away from mentally cursing his twin for not locking it behind him, before he saw the familiar shock of blue hair. It was just Danny.

"Hey, J.G., I was wondering where you guys wen—woah, holy shit, uh, is that a deer?"

He slipped in, having the consideration to the lock the door behind him, before sitting down cross legged on the floor in front of Jason. "Uh, what's going on?"

"Good question, Daniel," Jason agreed, leaning forward and placing his hands on his knees. "Gage, would you like to explain just why the fuck I'm awake right now, why our beloved freshman is awake right now, and why Garrett is halfway to breaking a rule at this fine hour?"

He gazed straight into Gage's eyes, and it made Gage a little bit uncomfortable. Jason Griffith was someone he admired dearly, and having Jason be mad at him was something that set him into quite a pickle.

"Aw, Jace, what were we gonna do? Leave him in the street?" Gage muttered, looking back at A.D. "So, what happened was me and Tripp were walking to Coventry, right? 'Cause, I mean, we were hungry and we wanted some snacks, but our dorm stash is out so I mean it's either head to Coventry or wait 'till 6 when Yum Yum opens and, I mean, shit, who wants to do that, right?"

He looked between Jason and Danny for a moment, studying their reactions. Danny nodded as if this explanation so far made perfect sense, but Jason still had that 'what-the-hell' look in his eyes. "So, there we were, minding our own business, about to cross the street when suddenly this green car just swerves and screeches and we hear a thump and then some bitch's voice screaming before she kinda drives off. So me and Tripp were ready to run after and smash her car up to teach her that that's not the way you drive at 2AM on a school night, when suddenly we see this big ass lump in the street."

Gage took a breath, glancing at A.D. The deer eyed him expectantly. "I mean, we thought it was a body—like a body in a bag, 'cause we thought the bitch murdered somebody and then threw the bag out the window—so of course we go to check it out 'cause who doesn't wanna see that, and then we see A.D. here, laying there looking as if he wants one of us to put a bullet through his head."

Danny bit his trembling lower lip, looking as if he were going to cry. It didn't surprise Jason—the kid was only fourteen years old—but he himself was still mystified. It was just a fucking deer.

"It's just a fucking deer," he said to Gage bluntly.

"It's not just a deer!" Gage shouted back, standing instantly and startling the other two and the deer. "He's an innocent animal who had bad shit happen to him, he doesn't deserve to die alone in the street!"

Jason was taken aback by the outburst, but quickly regained his composure. He supposed it made sense—the twins were touchy on the whole 'abandonment' topic. Sighing, he met Gage's eyes, which were big and watery. He wanted Jason's approval. "You're right, Gage," Jason agreed, "I guess you couldn't just leave it in the street. Still, taking him here was a shitty decision."

Gage nodded, looking away from Jason, but not before Jason could note the flicker of relief in his contact-covered red eyes. "Coventry was too far. It was right outside the school."

Jason said nothing, instead focused his gaze out the window and allowed Danny and Gage to begin a conversation focusing on how awesome the deer was.

Before long there was a knock at the door, and Garrett and Tripp entered carrying the supplies that Garrett had needed. Jason watched as Tripp and Gage held hands tightly, watching Garrett make the cast for the deer, taking turns stroking the deer's head to keep it calm, Danny trying to distract them as if they were parents awaiting their child's surgery to finish. But soon enough Garrett was finished, with the promise that the deer would be fine in about a month, maybe a few weeks.

"Alright Nix, bedtime," Jason announced, standing and stretching once Garrett had finished.

"Aw, can't we just stay a little longer?" Danny pleaded, his eyes flickering from Jason to Garrett.

Garrett shook his head, his gaze serious and trained on Danny. "You have class," he reminded, furrowing his eyebrows. "You can't be late. Again."

Danny sighed, offering a quick 'goodnight' to the twins, before trailing out after Garrett. Jason followed, but turned to face the twins as he stood in the doorway.

"We're moving him tomorrow. No arguments. I'll arrange something to move him comfortably and without us getting caught, but I don't want any complaints on this. This is the type of shit that can get you guys suspended. Just tonight."

"Aw, we know J," Tripp smiled, pushing Jason gently out the door.

"But that still means we get a night with A.D.!" Gage added before slamming the door on Jason's face.

Still, Jason couldn't help but laugh just a little when he heard the twins whooping and celebrating.


End file.
